


Because I'm Happy

by OBlivious



Series: Orlando Bloom [2]
Category: Justin Bieber - Fandom, Leonardo DiCaprio - Fandom, Orlando Bloom - Fandom
Genre: Brawl - Freeform, Bromance, Celebrities, Drama, Fist Fights, Ibiza, M/M, Restaurant Drama, Sad, Spain, Vacation, Wimp, depressed, happiness, punch - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OBlivious/pseuds/OBlivious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What really happened between Orlando Bloom and Justin Bieber in Ibiza? Here's the story from Orlando's perspective. Which friend stood up for him and got rid of the sadness and anger inside Orlando?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I'm Happy

It’s late and Orlando is feeling exhausted. Although he had been traveling from place to place in the past four days nonstop- from London to New York, from New York to San Diego, from San Diego to Spain, from Spain to Ibiza, where he is now- he is more internally fatigued than jetlagged and caffeinated. It’s been over a month since he’s seen Flynn. The custody deal is not working out as well as it had been conceived to, and although they speak nearly every day on FaceTime, the physical gap is unbearable. A dinner at Cipriani restaurant with his good friend Leo is a temporary relief. After settling that Leonardo DiCaprio was not after his girl several months back, their bond has been restored, now much stronger, but Orlando’s intensified nomadic ways of recent makes their run-ins seldom. But tonight, they would be able to talk about the troubles nibbling away at them, like they always do.  


A waitress leads Orlando kindly to the table where Leo is sitting, waiting. It’s always a competition who will be more precise with timing. Leo stands up and Orlando gives him a manly hug before setting into a large, comfortable yet stylish taupe chair. “I already ordered for you,” Leo says, gesturing to the _Selección de Sashimi por el Chef._ “You know me too well,” Orlando laughs in response.  


He glances around to drink in the feel of the place. Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan and Diddy are dining at a close table. He waves in greeting and gets back to his friend. A waiter comes by to pour them champagne.  


“To happiness,” Orlando murmurs as the glasses lightly clink.  


“What’s happiness?” Leo whispers back.  


“It’s too early in the evening to get deep.”  


They delve into their food in a comfortable silence. Without the drinking- just a bit- Orlando would be completely out. His sight is somewhat hazy and thoughts push their way around, manipulating his mind. Leo has happiness; at the present anyway. Orlando has happiness; he would always have his son, but why could he not _have_ his son… Leo had Toni, a supermodel. He doubted it would last, yet that was not what it’s like between him and Miranda. He and Miranda, they are forever. They had a flame going, until it was down to a spark that would die if they kept living together. She says their marriage was constricting and was the cause of pain that can be otherwise avoided. Doesn't she know how much I love her? How I would do anything to stay with her, to remain a normal family for Flynn’s sake… He snaps out of his hurt, realizing he’s been eating without paying attention, like a zombie, when Leo opens his mouth again.  


“Is it late enough?”  


“Hmm?”  


“I want to know what your definition of happiness is. You’re depressed, Orlando. Look at yourself! It’s not hard to see.” It’s dim in the restaurant with the purple glow of subtle lamps in select corners, but Orlando can see the worry is genuine. Leo leans in toward his friend, his hands clasped in front of him. He means business; he means to do what he can to rectify the shambles before him into the perfect life once again.  


“I miss my son,” Orlando admits without expression. He’s so, so tired…. “It’s been too long.”  


“Do you want it? What you had?”  


 _Good point._ He misses it, but does he want it back? “I don’t know. Once, it was all so simple.”  


Orlando sees Leo parting his lips as if to try and emphasize, and expels an inner sigh of relief when he doesn't say anything, because although Leo has been through some crap, it takes one to know one. Leo hadn’t been in a serious relationship; he has no kids of his own. Instead, his friend reaches his cuffed hand across the table to touch Orlando’s bare arm. “This is not what you deserve.”  


Although feeling dry and devoid of emotion, Orlando’s eyes gloss over. His mouth muscles move just enough to get out all the crap about self-worth he’d been mulling over. “Don’t sell that to me. I could have spent more time at home. I could have turned down Broadway. I could have been less selfish when it cracked down to big choices in career. I could have been a good husband. But I wasn’t, and I hurt her, and now Flynn’s life is dented before it got a fair kick off the ground. I could have paid more atten-”  


“Enough!” Leo bangs on the table, angry. Glass, china, and metal clamber in terror. “I will not tolerate you being so self-deprecating. Orlando, if there’s one thing I have to say to you, it’s that I hold the utmost respect for you. You didn’t let the spoils and fame of Hollywood ruin you. You’re still soft to the heart, intelligent, and funny. You’re better than any man out there because you still see priorities. You follow them. I’ve known you and Miranda when you were dating and then married, and your happiness was enough to make me smile at any time. You’re better than her. You deserve to have what you want, because never have you done another soul harm. Ask anyone. Anyone who’s mentioned you to me had only positive things to say. And I hear a load of shit going around freely all the time about other celebrities, but you’ve never laid down a reason not to be loved.”  


Orlando stares at his friend, partially in wonder yet mostly because he’s spacing out on him. A portion of it is fluff, but the rest is gratifying to hear. “Thank you, Leo,” he finally responds. He is starting to feel some emotion now, the warmth of the alcohol spreading to his fingertips. Their hands are still touching, heated against each other. It feels good to be cared about and even better to be respected.  


He thinks for a long time and is about to say something, though the thought slips away when the nearby celebrities join their table in giddy spirits. Leo good-naturedly switches his channel to party mode, while Orlando cocks his head and observes as if from behind a glass.  


His head hurts. He’s overwhelmed and Lohan’s laughter is particularly sharp in his ears. They’re sweet and all but he wants to go away and talk to Leo in peace. They were at the verge of a good, deep conversation.  


“That the Biebs?” Says Paris suddenly.  


“Who?”  


“Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?” quips Diddy.  


Orlando is edgy all of a sudden. “If you’re talking about that kid Justin, I really don’t care.”  


“Look, he’s heading over. Got no business at the adult table, does he now.”  


Everybody besides for Orlando is enjoying a laugh. _Go away. Just go._ Yet Justin is coming closer, his hand proffered toward him. A mocking smirk is etched on his smug face. _He’s making fun of me. He knows what a piece of shit he is._ Justin is now standing by Orlando, only on par with his height when the latter is sitting. Two husky bodyguards are shadowing the kid, matching his every step with one of their own. The stand there sans expression, and time seems to slow down as the hand is held out and is not taken. The table party stares on, amused and incredulous. Leo makes no move. Neither does Orlando, until a dejected Justin whispers into Orlando’s ear, “she was good.”  


Next thing Orlando knows, he is standing, and his fist is flying through the air. _Stop, Orlando, stop!_ Unable to control the force, Orlando jerks his hand upward, making it seem like Justin ducks it. A bodyguard pushes Orlando’s hand away, but not before he can grab a handful of bitch hair and give a good tug. Sounds come from all around. Cheering. Leo’s loudest of all, and Lindsey Lohan’s laughter is not half as irritating as previously. Justin is shocked, and is backing up into the protection of his hires. Feeling safe and thinking Orlando missed, he shouts “what’s up bitch?”  


 _That’s it._ Orlando’s ears grow dangerously hot and he advances on Justin. He towers over him threateningly, close enough to smell the musty breath emanating from his foul mouth. He’s got puppy eyes and he looks to his guards for help. Orlando opens his mouth and doesn't close it until he’s let it all out, like a dragon conjuring up a great fiery breath.  


“Listen, you little prick. I've heard enough about the damage you spend your days doing, how you ruin lives because you've got the fame. One thing I do not stand for, as a man, is disrespect toward women. And saying shit about messing with my wife is not something I’m going to tolerate. You should go. I’m not even going to get started with the hurt you've caused Selena, she’s told me about it. Grow up. GO! And if one more thing is said or done abou-“  


Here Justin is abruptly taking away by his guards, squalling to break free and hit. They leave the restaurant, but not before Leo, who had come up behind Orlando during the accusing, bends in lightly and flicks Justin on the head. Scuffled, he quickens his pace and is gone. The entire restaurant, friends and strangers and waitresses alike, erupts in cheers.  


Orlando isn't feeling it, though. He turns around to see Leo laughing to the point of tears, and receives a thump on the back from him. When his friend sees his face, however, he halts the applause, takes Orlando by the shoulder and leads him to sit outside, away from the other humans. Orlando is crying. No tears, but he’s crying ever so slightly. “I have no idea what just happened, man. I have no idea.”  


“Orlando,” Leo says, “I commend you.”  


Orlando shakes his head. “Leo, I’m a Buddhist. This is not what we do. I don’t believe in violence.”  


“Did you mean to hit him?”  


“Not once I realized what was about to happen.”  


“He deserved that and a lot more.”  


“You know what he deserves?” Orlando continues without waiting for an answer. “He deserves to lose something.”  


This time, it’s Leo who shakes his head. “No can do.”  


They exchange an amused look, and Orlando knows something is about to come.  


“He can’t lose anything because he has nothing to lose. Piece of trash, he is.”  


“I have nothing to lose either.”  


“Orlando, I thought we went through this already. You have me as a friend. You have Miranda in your heart. We don’t even need to go all the places because you’ve got Flynn, you’ve got a son and that’s all that matters. Justin was disgusting about the mother of your child, do you get that? You did the right thing.”  


“That’s so easy to say, but I bet it’s going to go out on the media. I can’t stand these feuds. I never wanted to be part of something like this.”  


Leo lifts a muscular arm to serve as a pillow to his head, and leans back against the stone. His eyes are filled with a curious depth. “I like to believe that our instincts take action without consulting our brains since brains have this tendency to be too wary.”  


Orlando puts on a crooked smile, displaying favor. He allows his head to drop onto his friend’s lap, so he can smell his cologne and see the stars. “I don’t know what I’d do without you tonight…” he is muttering half to himself as Leo takes his free hand to close over one of Orlando’s and rest with it on the latter’s trunk. Bright little lights against the dark velvet tapestry makes Orlando feel all warm inside, and he breathes deeply, his eyes drooping to a close.  


He can hear Leo’s soft laughter as if it were far away… “Come; let’s get you to the hotel.” It feels so good to just rest outside until Leo shifts from underneath him, holds him upright from beneath his armpits and half drags, half carries him into a car. One moment he’s being ushered inside and the next, the car is coming to a halt and he’s being helped out. Someone is saying something to him but it’s so fuzzy in his ears. “I said, where’s your key?” an exasperated Leonardo is repeating.  


“Mmm?”  


“Forget it, Orlando, just come here with me for a minute; I seriously can’t hold in my bladder.”  


It’s dark inside Leo’s room. _Sleep…_ Leo goes to the bathroom while Orlando gropes for the bed.

 ~~~ 

“Move over.”  


“Soon…”  


Leo physically pushes Orlando over. He had been splayed across, hogging the sheets. Orlando is still dressed, so his friend gently removes the shoes from his feet and places them by the foot of the bed. The air is on but there is a slick layer of perspiration seeping through his white shirt. Gingerly, Leo pulls it over the limp head. The pants look really uncomfortable to sleep in as well, and he takes care of that, leaving Orlando bare to his boxers, and of course his necklace. Leo gets into pajama shorts and tries to get comfortable under the blanket while accommodating another space thief.

~~~ 

 _What the fuck am I doing in this bed?_ His head is pounding terribly, making it feel as if a sibling is practicing drums in the room. Dizzy, so dizzy…things stop swaying around him and he stands steady. His vision is reliant on the faint glow of moonlight penetrating through cracks in the shades. Leo is sleeping sprawled on his back, just the opposite way of Orlando, who sleeps on his front and drools like a baby. He subconsciously wipes the saliva from the side of his mouth and turns to leave the room when he remembers that: first of all, he is naked. _What the actual…?!_ Second of all, he would need his key. If he is naked, he is not wearing his pants, where he stashed away his key last night. He switches on one of the bed lamps and begins to search for the missing pants, when he is jolted by a hoarse voice.  


“Orlando? Where are you going at four in the freaking A.M.?”  


“Dammit, I thought you were sleeping?”  


Leo chuckles, still in the same position he had been sleeping in. “You’re the one who turned on the light.”  


“….Oops, I guess? I was going to my room but I can’t find my pants.”  


“I suppose you’ll have to stay here then.”  


“Kay.”  


Leo goes back to sleep but Leo can’t anymore. He’s feeling way to damn good. He lies down over the blanket with the air conditioner making his skin tickle and shifts over toward his sleeping buddy. A chill runs through his spine. He takes his hand, slides it beneath Orlando’s neck and shifts onto his side. He lifts his right leg over the warm skin of Orlando’s thigh and thinks until the sun’s rays infiltrate the room, his eyes closing mere moments before the other wakes…again from the light. He smirks knowingly and then untangles himself, dresses and leaves the hotel for an early stroll at the lake.  


When Orlando wakes half an hour later, it’s to find himself alone in the room, with his shirt, pants, and shoes by the foot of the bed- where they probably were the whole time. Too disgusted to put on his clothes again after all the sweat it endured, he showers in Leo’s bathroom, “borrowing” some of his shampoo. With a towel wrapped around his clean body, he crosses the corridor into his own room to dress. He picks orange shorts and a white T-shirt with a captioned pop art of Jean-Michel. Strapping on his watch, he pulls his sacred necklace over the shirt and ties light sneakers, and setting a pair of shades on his head, he locks the door and leaves. He goes down to the breakfast room but quickly decides he is not hungry, and takes a moment with fresh Ibiza air when he bumps into Leo returning from the lake.  


“Ayyy mate!” Orlando laughs lightly, and jams into Leo’s firm chest.  


“Your hair smells good,” mutters Leo, after recovering from the contact. “Thanks for asking.”  


They both laugh.  


“Up for breakfast?”  


“S’pose a coffee never hurts.”  


“Ha,” Leo says, “your manager contacted me and said she has breakfast for us by the water. A specialty.”  


“Why’d she tell you?”  


“Mate, where’s your phone at?”  


Orlando checks his hands and pocket, dumbfounded. “Good point.”  


“Okay, then.” Leo takes charge. “I’ll just call a boat and-“  


“I need my morning run,” Orlando interjects. “I’ll foot it. D’you know where it is?”  


“I’ll race you,” Leo says by way of answering.  


They’re off, and yet while Orlando is the fitter of the two, his system is still revving up after a more recent shut-down and Leo is ahead.  


“Is that it?” Orlando pants, as he comes to the lakeside and spots a happening tent across the water.  
Without waiting for the affirmative, he takes off his shoes and jumps into the lake and begins to swim. Leo is yelling something from behind but with the dunking his head under the surface and up again for air, he can’t make out words. Faster, faster…. He’s about to reach the shore when his leg is pulled harshly. He loses control and he’s sinking, being pulled down. His eyes are opened and through the murkiness he could see that it’s Leo causing this. “What the fuck, man?” he tries to say yet only bubbles leave his mouth. Leo grabs his shoulders suddenly and pulls him toward him, landing a kiss on the side of his mouth before gravity reclaimed them to break surface and they did with the relief of oxygen and Leo’s bastard laughter. “Fuck you, man,” Orlando curses, but he’s not angry.  


“Look ahead,” Leo says when he calms his laughter. “That ain’t our breakfast party.”  


Treading, Orlando peers ahead to see that indeed, it is not his social group. It looked like Justin Bieber and his entourage. “Definitely not my crew,” Orlando agrees.  


It’s a while until they reach their actual spot, but at least Orlando emerges is the winner.  


“Whoa. Seriously man?” The place is filled with girls…Erica Packer, who he met yesterday, is there too. Besides that, it’s really a swirl of beautiful Spanish models in beach dress. Leo shrugs, as if he didn’t know, shooting the “hey, I’m not complaining!” look.  


The music turns up. “Because I’m happy…”  


 _Yes,_ Orlando muses as his body goes with the beat, _I am happy..._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave comments and kudos :)  
> This is my view. Obviously I don't believe all this went down between Orlando and Leonardo, but I ship them as the cuddly sort of friends and I do believe that they help each other out as friends.  
> Oh, and one more thing. Fuck Justin Bieber.


End file.
